In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice;
in the morning I lay my requests before you
and wait in expectation.
Psalm 5:3 (NIV)
In our family, the Christmas season didn't end until the magi arrived. No decoration could be removed until Epiphany … the tree stayed up, all ornaments were left untouched, and the stockings were even returned to the hearth as if Santa never came. Just as the season of Advent was our recognized period of waiting for the Christ child to arrive, the span between Christmas Day and Epiphany was time to wait for the three kings (yep, I know now it wasn't necessarily three and that they were magi not kings, but I didn't know that then!).
I always felt like something was missing when I visited friends' houses in late December and early January and saw the Christmas decorations cleared away so quickly. It made my heart sad to see the twinkling Christmas lights go dark on the 26th. I felt like shouting, "It's not over yet! The season isn't complete! We're supposed to still be waiting!"
And yet how often do I hurry on with my life, living as if Christ didn't come or at least isn't relevant today? I am so hasty to move into the rest of the week once Sunday has passed, or to dive into the next season once Christmas or Easter is over, or to simply rush into my day after a brief morning devotion. I rarely allow myself to sit and wait in expectation before the Lord as the psalmist did. Just as I was sad for my friends to miss out on celebrating Epiphany like my family did, what is God sad that I'm missing today? What blessings would I see if I would only wait?
I usually decorate our Christmas tree. My husband, Lee, helps, but he asks me where everything should go. (Although, I must admit that somehow his Santa-with-a-shotgun ornament – yes, he's a good ole Southern boy – always ends up aimed at the deer ornament, and that has never been my doing!) This year was different; this year I had a helper: Jocelyn, who will turn two in January.
Before this year, our Noah's ark set of ornaments were always grouped near each other; this year, Noah is nowhere near his wife, the lion can't see his lioness, and the other pairs are all in places that Jocelyn deemed best (including the penguin who is hanging from the nightlight in her bedroom). In previous years, our plain ball ornaments were placed in the recesses of the tree to make it look fuller (especially this year, since our artificial tree is beginning to show that it was a great deal when we bought it as newlyweds); this year, Jocelyn decided that all the ball ornaments needed prominent positioning, since one of her favorite words is "ball." No ornament is where I would have placed it (except for her, my, and Lee's baby's first Christmas ornaments; those I placed near the top as usual), but it's beautiful. Special. Perfect. In a word, it's us. And I love it.
The biggest difference, though, is in how the ornaments were treated. I have my favorite ornaments, those with special meaning or memories or those that are just prettier. I usually hide some less favored ornaments in less conspicuous places, like the back of the tree or its interior, and reserve special spots for my beloved ornaments. This year, though, every ornament was beloved. Jocelyn carefully examined each, lovingly kissed each, and painstakingly selected the perfect spot for each.
My friend, isn't that the message of Christmas? God so loved the world (each of His "ornaments") that He sent His one and only Son so that whosoever believed in Him would not perish but have eternal life (a perfectly picked spot on His tree). He doesn't have favorites. He doesn't hide some of us away and show off others. On our tree, the ornaments this year were the same ornaments as last year; their monetary value didn't change. But, in how Jocelyn treated each, their worth did. When Christ came, the value of each person didn't change. But, as He paid the price for each of us, our worth was changed forever. Now that's worth celebrating! Merry Christmas!
This year when my mom, who loves Nativity sets, asked what Jocelyn might like for Christmas, I mentioned the Fisher Price Little People set. Since Advent was always a big deal in our home, I shouldn't have been surprised to find the set, along with the coordinating inn and wise men sets, on our doorstep in time for the beginning of the Advent season. We cleared off a side table to allow for the manger, the inn, and the wise men to each occupy a level, and Jocelyn has loved it!
She ignores most of the characters, just playing with the animals, except for baby Jesus. In the pictures above you may have noticed that the main man is missing from the scene. That's because Jocelyn runs around the house with the figure that she calls "baby 'sus." She covers him with kisses and shoves him in the cats' faces, shouting "baby 'sus" the entire time. Occasionally, she gets distracted and leaves the baby somewhere, but she always returns to find him (sometimes after an extensive search). Thus, baby Jesus is rarely in the Nativity set.
As I thought about this, it brought to mind how easy it is for all of us to leave Jesus in the manger. Babies are pretty safe and unintimidating, right? We're often more comfortable with Him in the manger as a babe than we are, for example, as a man clearing the money changers out of the temple. And we're often more comfortable leaving Jesus in His place in the manager … or perhaps at church after Christmas Eve or Easter or just a typical Sunday worship service … than we are taking Him with us in our lives, carrying Him around, giving Him kisses with the way we live our lives, and sharing His message to others (though, unlike Jocelyn's approach with the cats, not shoving Him in their faces!).
I think we'll be beginning a new tradition this year. As I pack up our Nativity set this year, I'll be leaving baby 'sus out as a reminder that He entered His human life in a stable but that He was never meant to stay there.
As a child, I attended a large, traditional church with cathedral-style, stained-glass windows. There was also a fresco of Jesus and a herd of sheep. I don’t remember much about the sheep – just that they were there – but I do remember that in Jesus’ arms were two or three little lambs looking up at him. He was looking back at them with a grave, tender expression on his face.
We sat in the same place every week in order to be close to the side door, where Grandma could slip out unobserved if she had a coughing fit. It made her feel more secure to sit there, and I got a lot of face time with this fresco while half-listening to a grown-up talk about things I did not understand.
While still very young, I remember gesturing toward the fresco and asking my mother, “Who’s that?”
“That’s God,” she replied, as if I were asking about someone in Bradner’s Department Store. There was no question – just a matter-of-fact, positive ID. So I filed this away in my subconscious: God is a person and he sure takes care of those lambs.
As for me, I had this information, but acting on that information is quite another thing. Time passed and I happily took my eyes off of him. He patiently and faithfully pursued me for decades, through awful choices resulting in pain. He did not give up. He did not even prevent me from making those life choices. In fact, He used them as if to say, as effectively as if He were standing next to me, “Have you had enough of your way yet?”
Eventually and gradually, my flight from Him turned from an energetic run into slow, exhausted steps, until I turned around and, by faith, fell gratefully into His strong arms – just like those little lambs on the fresco.
It is an unspeakable comfort and joy to know that over 2000 years ago, Jesus, Lamb of God, came to this earth as a helpless baby, grew up to be the Good Shepherd and Savior of his flock, died a death that was justly mine. He saved me, He saves me and He will save me.
On what are you relying this day for your salvation? A husband, boyfriend, child, best friend, career, home, good works, yourself? What a relief to know that we don’t have to put that kind of pressure on ourselves or anyone else! This is the season we celebrate the coming of the One who loved us enough to come meet us where we are – on this earth in all our messy humanity – and truly save us.
“Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Risen with healing in His wings.
Mild He lay His glory by.
Born that man no more may die.
Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth.
Hark! The herald angel sings, Glory to the new-born King!”
To link to Celebrating Christmas, copy and paste the code below into your site:
Posts
All Comments
